


a simple mistake starts the hardest time

by leahofhell



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Minor Injuries, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leahofhell/pseuds/leahofhell
Summary: “Varric?”At the sound of the Seeker’s voice Varric Tethras merely groaned and stayed exactly where he had been for the last hour - planted face down in his bed roll because the idea of attempting to move was simply far too painful.A collection of Cassandra/Varric prompt fics
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	1. if ever I try to push away, you can just keep me there

“Varric?”

At the sound of the Seeker’s voice Varric Tethras merely groaned and stayed exactly where he had been for the last hour - planted face down in his bed roll because the idea of attempting to move was simply far too painful.

“Varric, where are you? It is almost time for dinner.”

Cassandra’s voice was even closer this time, it seemed she was honing in on their shared tent as his most likely location - she wasn’t a Seeker for nothing it seemed. After a resigned sigh he turned his head to one side so that he wouldn’t be muffled by the bundle of clothes he used as a pillow.

“In here Seeker!” 

He managed to squawk, while not sounding at all like his normal self, in fact he sounded like someone who had very narrowly avoided being utterly flattened by a giant and had a shoulder at an extremely odd angle to prove it.

“Ah here you are,” said Cassandra as she entered the tent “Lavellan was starting to worry about you, she’s nearly finished her letter to Leliana and was most concerned you hadn’t…” she stopped abruptly and when Varric next heard her voice it seemed to be much closer 

“Varric why are you still in your gear?”

He turned his head to find her kneeling down by his head, gazing at him in what seemed to be approaching… concern? Her face was scrunched up like she was evaluating just what she was looking at. And what she was looking at was a dwarf covered in mud and giant guts.

“Well Seeker…” he began but could not come up with anything besides the truth, “the giant from earlier clipped me and now it hurts to move… basically anything on the left side of my body.”

“By the Maker! Why didn’t you tell anyone Varric? We have healers just for these situations!”

Varric pushed his face back into his makeshift pillow and mumbled indistinctly.

“Well at least your writing hand is okay…”

At that he turned back to Cassandra, this time full on his side, ready to respond with a withering put down but was silenced when he saw her grinning wickedly.

“See you can move!” she said with possibly too much satisfaction “Now Varric, sit up and tell me where it hurts.”

He struggled to raise himself using only one hand but with Cassandra’s aid he finally made it to a sitting position on the chair which doubled as his nightstand. In the hour he’d been wallowing in giant-induced pain and misery the Seeker had changed, washed up and changed into what Varric mentally referred to as her ‘casual armour’. Instead of her usual metal, this was instead leather and various other sturdy looking materials; not quite what he would regard as casual clothing but probably enough to help protect her in case of an ambush. How likely that was at the Inquisition’s most established base in the Emerald Graves was up for debate, but she was most likely more comfortable this way. And he could distinctly smell lavender in her hair. Not that he was in the habit of smelling Cassandra’s hair of course.

“You see Seeker, when a man is almost thrown through the air by a wild giant it tends to hurt basically everywhere…”

She fixed him with a look that seemed to say ‘this is about your health, be serious for once in your life’ and resigned to his fate Varric pointed at his left shoulder.

“Right, then let’s remove your coat and take a look.”

At this Varric made a move to shrug off his coat but his left shoulder just would not comply and he let out a short gasp of pain. Immediately Cassandra motioned for him to stop and gently began to remove the coat herself, gently draping it over the back of his chair.

“Varric… I think your shoulder may be dislocated, I have experience in rectifying the situation but I would need to undergo a few checks in order to make sure that is the case and that I don’t cause any further damage.”

“Well by Andraste’s ass go for it!” 

That earned him one of her usual glares which surprisingly rather quickly turned into Cassandra pausing with her hands on her hips and chewing her lip thoughtfully.

“In order to perform these checks I will need your permission to…” Cassandra removed her hands from her hips and instead started fidgeting with her hands and was now staring at them rather than looking Varric in the face.

“You will need my permission to what?”

“Remove your shirt!” She blurted out, rather loudly and began to look up as if asking Andraste herself for guidance. “Oh Maker Varric I’m sorry! It’s just that if I am wrong and treat this as a dislocated shoulder and it isn’t… It could result in much worse pain for you and we would have to find a more experienced healer taking you out of the field…” She finally looked back down at him “Varric, why are you looking so pleased?”

“Maker’s Breath! If that’s all you need to do go ahead, we’ve shared a tent many times now it’s nothing you haven’t seen before!”

“Be that as it may Varric, I have never removed an article of your clothing before and it only seemed right to gain your consent.”

“Well that is very much appreciated. Now please take my shirt off and fix my shoulder!” 

Varric finished off by giving her a grin that he hoped expressed how frankly adorable he found her concern for his modesty despite the situation.

When Cassandra bent down to remove his shirt he caught the smell of lavender from her again and couldn’t help taking a deep breath. He found it calming him as she carefully removed the shirt from his left side. 

“Is it okay if I..?” She asked, gesturing at his injured shoulder and Varric nodded. What followed was several minutes of gentle prodding accompanied by the occasional gasp of pain from Varric. With every gasp Cassandra looked into his eyes and offered a sincere apology. It had been some time since Varric had been alone with another person, with his shirt off, for this amount of time. And of all people it was the Seeker. The Seeker who it turned out was a massive fan of his worst books. 

Varric still wasn’t completely sure why he allowed himself to be so easily persuaded by Lavellan to write another damn chapter for Swords and Shields. Sure there definitely was a part of him that did it purely for the laughs but there was another part of him deep down that wrote that chapter as a sort of peace offering. As the months rolled on at Skyhold, and out in the field Varric had found himself and the Seeker reaching a, what did the Orlesians call it? A detente. And while they were stuck together trying to stop an ancient darkspawn magister they might as well not hate each other for the duration. And he definitely wasn’t thinking about Dorian’s comments to the both of them from a few weeks ago. Just because two people hate each other… When in fact they’d gotten over the hate part of their relationship some time ago. 

A real turning point, Varric had come to realise was shortly after Bianca. While in the Deep Roads, Cassandra and funnily enough Dorian, had both managed to keep any comments of a personal nature to themselves. And when Cassandra did bring her up a month or so later she did so in a way that really surprised Varric, relating her own story of her mage she lost at the Conclave. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by the prodding finally ending and a very grim looking Seeker right in front of him.

“Okay Varric we have a definite dislocation, as I said I can put your shoulder to rights or would you prefer a healer?”

“Just… do it? Please? While it’s not my writing hand I do have some things I need to use both for.”

“Okay.” Cassandra nodded and positioned herself to move his shoulder back into place. “On the count of three. One. Two-”

On the count of two she moved and Varric heard an almighty crack, but at least he could move his fingers again. He said as much as he stretched his arm out, enjoying the use of his arm again.

“Could you pass me my shirt?” And before Cassandra could move he added “Unless you prefer the view with it off?”

“Ugh!” Was all he heard as his shirt landed in his face “Dinner will be soon Varric, get dressed.” And as she headed towards the tent Varric called after her:

“Thank you Cassandra.”

She turned around, nodded and left with a smile on her face. A smile not unlike the one currently on Varric’s. Maybe he’d leave an extra button undone on his shirt for dinner. Just to see what would happen.


	2. take my hand, knot your fingers through mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val Royeaux during peak hours, Varric decided, was most definitely not his kind of town.

Val Royeaux during peak hours, Varric decided, was most definitely not his kind of town. His visits alongside the Inquisitor had been rather rare and while the Orlesian Civil War and Corypheus never seemed to physically touch the capital after that first run in with Lord Seeker Lucius, the atmosphere was certainly affected. That city full of whispers, nervous nobles, and merchants with dwindling stocks was certainly not the city he was currently trying to make his way around. In fact Val Royeaux was en fȇte, as Leliana would say. Flags and streamers were everywhere, music poured from open windows and cafes were selling all sorts of food and wine and ale. Not exactly what Varric had expected for the one year anniversary of Divine Victoria’s ascension to the Sunburst Throne but still, he’d take this over hours of solemn kneeling in the Grand Cathedral any day. The kneeling, that through virtue of not actually receiving a formal invitation, he hoped dearly to avoid.

Instead, Varric had hoped to announce himself at the servant’s quarters and maybe, that way, be able to see an old friend or two without all the pageantry. The pageantry he was going to have to become all too familiar himself if Provisional Viscount Bran’s very heavy hints were to be believed. Shaking his head at the very thought of those hints coming to fruition Varric continued through the streets of Val Royeaux, occasionally stopping to get a bite to eat or to appreciate some Divine Victoria commemorative pottery with an… interesting creative vision. (He actually bought one or two to take back just so Merrill and Isabela could have a laugh at them). As he leisurely strolled towards the Grand Cathedral itself the crowds were getting larger and rowdier, and Orlesians rarely checked for dwarves even when they weren’t under the influence of far too much wine.

Just as he was about to duck into a slightly quieter side street to take a breather before getting elbowed in the head for the final half a mile of his walk to the Grand Cathedral he heard his name in an unmistakable voice.

“Varric Tethras!” The voice yelled again, “I know you heard me stay there you stubborn-”

Before she could continue Varric turned around, with the largest grin he could muster and cut her off.

“Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast, an unparalleled delight as always! Fancy seeing you here, where is here anyway? I got distracted by the many, many drunk Orlesians trying to use me as a drink stand to keep track of the street names.”

“Ugh. Varric must you use my full name?” 

Cassandra walked until she was next to him and made a face that Varric definitely hadn’t thought about a lot since Skyhold. And certainly not every time a prominent citizen of Kirkwall found occasion to write to the woman rebuilding the Seekers of Truth. 

“It just takes far too long I have no idea why you insist-”

“Cassandra, I insist because whenever I do you make that face you’re making right now and frankly it’s…”

Varric stopped himself before he could say anything that would incriminate him further. 

“It’s what?” 

Cassandra was glancing down at him but instead of a glare, she was now smiling. Smiling at the frankly terrified look on Varric’s face.

“Cease your fretting Varric, there is no interrogation for you today. It’s a joyous day and I happen to know where Leliana hides the good stuff in the Grand Cathedral. Or where she used to anyway.”

“Well that sounds great Seeker. Do you happen to know a back route to the Cathedral because I swear if another masked idiot elbows my nose they’ll have to answer to… Well.. you know.” And instead of saying her name he just pats the crossbow on his back.

“Nonsense Varric.” Cassandra replied. “We shall be taking the most direct route. But we shall be entering through a servant’s entrance. Today is a day of celebration and I have no intention of dealing with any Grand Clerics before I absolutely have to.”

And with that she grabbed Varric’s hand.

Too shocked to object, Varric let himself be led through the streets of Val Royeaux by Cassandra. And given a combination of the emblem on her uniform and what Varric suspected was the sheer power of the Pentaghast cheekbones the crowds parted. However there was only so much the crowds could part so there were occasions at particularly packed bottlenecks where Cassandra would tighten her grip to ensure she didn’t lose him. At least that’s what Varric told himself was happening.

As they approached the Grand Cathedral the crowds grew slightly more sedate, less alcohol was flowing and the music heard was much more devotional. And there were many more clerics in some truly ridiculous hats. Instead of heading straight for the large square in front of the Grand Cathedral Cassandra guided him to the West down a side street which seemed to be full of very exclusive residences.

“This street will take us to the servant’s entrance I most commonly used while I served Justinia and I know for a fact it will be in use today.”

“Why are you looking to avoid the Grand Clerics anyway Seeker? That’s not your usual style. I know you can’t give them a good old shield bash but still, it’s not like you not to face things head on.”

“It is my style Varric, when I want to avoid certain Grand Clerics who have been writing to me very frequently on their ideas of what I should be doing with an Order I am trying to rebuild from the ground up.” Varric looked up to see that she was making that adorable, scrunchy annoyed face.

Varric also noted that the street was wide enough and quiet enough for them to have stopped holding hands, but instead, he made a decision. He squeezed her hand in what he hoped she would take as a comforting manner.

“Shit Cassandra. I would have thought by now those old harpies would know better than trying to tell you what to do, I mean, when was the last time someone who wasn’t Lavellan did that successfully?”

Cassandra threw her head back laughing.

“It’s been many years, Varric. Many years.”

They continued walking to the Grand Cathedral and as they approached Varric could see a steady stream of servants heading in and out.

“Now, this door will lead us inside near the kitchens. Once we pass them we only have a short while to go before we can find Leliana’s….”

“Exactly what kind of booze does the Divine need to hide anyway Seeker?”

“Most Holy developed a taste for a certain vintage during the fifth blight. According to her the dwarf who was a companion to the Queen of Ferelden had a taste for the unusual. The particular one that Leliana grew a taste for happens to originate in Tevinter of all places.”

Varric chuckled.

“Well you can’t be seen herding a Tevinter merchant caravan into Orlais! Lucky our Nightingale hasn’t lost her touch.”

“No she most certainly has not. In fact she’s mentioned some interesting news coming out of Kirkwall regarding the position of Viscount…”

“If you want to talk about that Cassandra I need to be much drunker than I am right now.”

“Okay Varric.”

And with a squeeze of his hand they walked into the Grand Cathedral in search of some seriously strong alcohol.

A few hours later The Divine herself went searching for the old Right Hand of Justinia and the soon to be Viscount of Kirkwall. They really both ought to have arrived by now and had both been spotted in the city. As she walked quietly to the old entrance she knew Cassandra to be fond of she heard giggling coming from a nearby courtyard garden. Peering around a corner Leliana saw the individuals she was searching for clearly having a good time with what appeared to be her secret stash of Sun Blonde Vint-1. Sister Nightingale smiled to herself and slipped away, leaving them to present themselves when they were ready. And hopefully a bit more sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: person A and person B holding hands because they are in a crowd but not letting go when they get out of it
> 
> title from 'open your eyes' by snow patrol
> 
> thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	3. it was like you were holding the world when you held her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after caer oswin cassandra needs some time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for panic/anxiety attacks
> 
> prompt: person b holding person a’s hands while they are shaking
> 
> title from epic iii from hadestown

Stepping out of Caer Oswin Varric paused and took a deep breath, he would have normally called what they had found within the keep a shit show but those words simply didn’t do it justice. Dorian stood beside him and let out an extremely long sigh, for once also at a loss for words. Their eyes met and Varric wordlessly handed him a flask and they both took several deep sips while waiting for Lavellan and Cassandra to emerge. They passed the flask back and forth until they heard the door behind them creak open and Lavellan and Cassandra, who was now carrying a large tome walked out.

“We’re going back to camp, from there we’ll head back to Skyhold tomorrow morning. As quickly as possible.” 

Lavellan sounded extremely strained, basically exactly as Varric was feeling.

The group began walking down the slope they had ascended only a few hours before, the two mages in front, then Varric with Cassandra following behind him. Only a short time after they began towards camp Varric noticed the absence of heavily armed feet behind him and instead heard what distinctly sounded like someone breathing very quickly in between sobs. 

He turned around and hurried back to where Cassandra was now sitting on a low stone wall with her head in her hands. The ridiculously large book lay forgotten at her feet and she was visibly shaking. Reaching her Varric put Bianca down gently on the floor and announced his presence softly, so as not to alarm her.

“Seeker? Cassandra?”

Cassandra continued to shake and seemed not to hear him.

“Cassandra, I want you to nod if you can hear me. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded slowly, and Varric exhaled softly in relief.

“Okay Cassandra, that’s good. That’s really good. Can you slow your breathing down for me?”

Varric took her by the hands, looked her directly in the eyes and started breathing deliberately in and out.

“Yeah, that’s it, just like me. In then out Seeker. That’s great.”

It took a while, breathing together slowly, Cassandra still letting a choked sob escape occasionally, but they got there, Varric talking her through it in a tone she had only really heard him use with Cole before. Once her breathing had calmed down Varric made to move slightly away but she gripped onto his hands all the tighter.

“Please Varric - don’t go.”

“Don’t worry Cassandra I’m not going anywhere. Never thought I’d see the day I’d be saying that to you, but here we are.” He chuckled and Cassandra managed the ghost of a smile.

“I just need a little time. What we found in there…” She trailed off. Unable to find the words to describe the betrayal of Lord Seeker Lucius and the fate of her order.

“You don’t need to talk about it now Cassandra. You can of course if you want, just don’t feel like you have to get it all out now.”

She nodded slowly at that and let go of one of his hands.

“Thank you.” She said as she squeezed the hand she was still holding, Varric noticed she was still shaking a little bit.

“Hey Cassandra - if I was to tell a certain handsome dwarf that you were interrogating all that time ago in Kirkwall that we would one day end up holding hands outside some forsaken keep in Ferelden I would have laughed all the way to Minrathous.”

She smiled at that but then immediately looked uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry Varric. What must you think of me, after everything, and here you are…”

“It’s okay Cassandra,” he replied, making special effort not to use her title right now. “We both said and did things I think we both regret now. But that is a conversation for later and right now I’m here for you. I just wanted you to know that.” He looked her directly in the eyes as he finished and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “We can go back to camp whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” It was the strongest Cassandra had sounded since she had seen Daniel on the floor. “But I believe I may require a few more minutes before I can deal with Dorian right now.”

Varric chuckled.

“That’s fair enough Seeker.” He squeezed her hand again. “Now would you prefer to sit in silence or would you like to review some of my more controversial plot points?”

“Well Varric, since you asked I have many thoughts about the Hard in Hightown sequel.”

“That wasn’t me!” Varric yelped, “That was the work of some plagiarising hack! Leliana is actually on the case right now because frankly there are some very concerning elements.”

After his outburst he turned to see Cassandra smiling.

“But,” he continued, “I could start hypothesising on some plot points for a potential new chapter of Swords and Shields after the last one was so positively received?”

“By all means Varric.”

They sat on that stone wall, watching the sun begin to set over the hills surrounding Caer Oswin with Varric spouting plot twists that were too ridiculous even for Swords and Shields. They stayed there for quite a while longer after Cassandra felt ready enough to move, but they made the decision to make for camp just before they thought the Inquisitor would feel worried enough to send some scouts out to find them. 

After a quiet dinner Lavellan returned to the tent she shared with Cassandra and Dorian to the one he shared with Varric, leaving the two of them alone once again. Cassandra cleared her throat, clearly attempting to be as casual about what she was about to say but failing miserably and Varric, Maker take his soul, found that incredibly endearing. Something else to add to his mental list that had been forming for a few months now.

“I would like to thank you for your help today Varric. I’ve not been like that in some time, since around the time Anthony died really. And I would just like to make sure you knew how much your help was appreciated.”

“Anytime Seek- Cassandra,” He corrected himself. “Merrill quite often dealt with similar panic attacks in the alienage, and well, when your Chantry blows up and your streets get overrun with abominations you get a whole city dealing with some issues.”

“Be that as it may Varric, your help today was very much appreciated.” With that Cassandra stood up, she took one step towards her tent but then suddenly stopped. She turned around with a look of determination on her face and strode back to Varric. Bending down she kissed him on the cheek and promptly turned bright red and stumbled to her tent saying “Goodnight Varric!” slightly louder than she normally would have done.

“Anytime Cassandra, anytime.” He said, barely above a whisper, to her retreating form.

And if Dorian, pretending to be in a very deep sleep, saw Varric wander into their tent with a dazed look on his face and holding a hand to a spot on his cheek he said nothing about it.


	4. she killed it with kisses and from it she fled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hawke is at skyhold and decides to help move some things along

Varric shook his head at the sight across from him in the Herald’s Rest. It had cost him a lot of trouble, yelling, and the not so occasional threat in his attempts to stop this very sight happening. But now, here they were. Marian Hawke and Cassandra Pentaghast were engaged in what seemed to be an absolutely delightful conversation and were about to finish their third bottle of wine. It seemed that surviving being thrown bodily into the Fade was quite a bonding experience for the two of them. A bond further cemented by their joint appreciation for extremely sharp swords. And complaining about him.

The fact they were getting along now was somehow more unsettling than the extended period where he was convinced Cassandra was going to cause him actual bodily harm after revealing he knew how to contact Hawke all along. At least that wasn’t on the table any more. After having a mature, adult conversation (or something close to it anyway) about their rationale for their actions on both sides and several months of getting to know each other with someone apart from Leliana as a buffer, Varric would venture to say they were approaching something towards friendship. She still had the capacity to scare the shit out of him though. Even when he found himself wanting to write odes to her cheekbones. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind, where several other similar thoughts about Cassandra now lived, that was the last thing anyone needed right now. There was enough drama going on with the Inquisitor and Curly and their subtle glances, as if half of Skyhold hadn’t seen their ‘moment’ on the battlements. 

“So, what are we making of that?”  
  
Varric looked up and saw Dorian looking pointedly at the two ladies across the pub. Hawke seemed to have inched around the table as the evening went on and was now seated extremely close to Cassandra and they both seemed exceedingly giggly.

“Honestly Sparkler? I’m not entirely sure yet.”

“She read the ‘Tale of the Champion’ before your delightful conversation in Kirkwall, correct?”

“Yep, although she did make me divulge certain details that didn’t make it into the published version.”

“Ah. Well we’re not going to find out what they’re gossiping about from over here. I shall provide them with more alcohol. Anyone who makes it out of the fade alive deserves some of the good stuff.”

“Your funeral Sparkler!”

Varric yelled as Dorian retreated to the bar, obtained a new bottle of wine and went and sat over with Cassandra and Hawke.

Varric returned to his ale and his notebook. Quickly turning over the page where he had just written “cheekbones” and underlined it thrice he returned to an outline for a new chapter of Swords and Shields. No matter how much he wanted to deny it he was inspired and those thoughts he kept attempting to shove to the back of his mind kept on making it down on paper.

After a decent session of sketching potential plotlines for the Guard Captain to battle against Varric drained his ale, put his notebook in his pocket and made his way to the bar for another ale. Just as Cabot handed him his drink he found himself being dragged to the other side of the pub by his best friend and forced into a chair between Cassandra and Dorian.

“Hey Hawke! Watch the beer!”

“I’ll get you another one Varric if you need it. Besides we need you to settle an argument.”

“I told you Hawke, it does not matter, we don’t need to drag Varric into this!”

Cassandra sounded slightly strained, but not as much as she would have been if she was completely sober.

“Cassandra I insist! And Dorian doesn’t have the same experience in the matter as Varric here.”

Varric’s eyes widened and he could see Hawke’s grin which could only be described as shit-eating. Dorian simply sipped at his wine, eager to see what was going to happen next.

“Varric, we have a very serious question: who would win in a fight, me or Cassandra? I mean, judging by your letters I thought I could take her but after seeing her in action I’m not so sure.”

Hawke made sure to drape her arm around Cassandra and Varric could almost swear he saw the Seeker blushing. Hawke had clearly been spending too much time with Isabela with the way she emphasised ‘take her’. Dorian was being massively unhelpful by merely snorting into his wine.

“Yes Varric. Could our dear Seeker take the Champion? I really have no idea how to judge… Warriors. And you are so much better acquainted with Hawke’s methods.”

Varric made a mental note to get back at Dorian. He would probably need to rope Bull into the scheme but that would have to wait. And on second thoughts, maybe not actually involving ropes they would both probably enjoy that too much. To buy time Varric took a long sip of his ale and looked at his best friend and the woman who dragged him across half of Thedas and who had now inspired half the scribblings in his notebook like he was a teenager with a crush again. This shit really had gotten weird.

“Hold on! I think I’ve got it!”

Hawke was now draped completely over Cassandra, the latter now a deep shade of red that Varric was trying to ignore. He took a deep breath steeling himself for whatever nonsense Hawke was going to spout next.

“Sparring match! Tomorrow morning! Well tomorrow afternoon to give my hangover time to recover. What do you say Seeker?”

Hawke actually started twirling Cassandra’s braid between her fingers as she finished detailing her idea. Varric took another extremely long sip of his ale. What on earth was Marian doing? As far as he knew she was still going strong with Isabela and while those two were certainly open with their relationship Varric knew for a fact Cassandra wouldn’t be. And his irritation had absolutely nothing to do with the fact he would want to twirl her braid around his fingers, nothing at all. 

Varric put his tankard down with slightly more force than normal, which made Dorian grin behind his wine glass.

“Cassandra you are under no obligation at all to do this, in fact just leave Hawke standing alone in the sparring ring tomorrow looking like an idiot.”

“Actually Varric, I will take Marian here up on her challenge. But for now I must sleep. Goodnight all.”

Cassandra downed her remaining wine, extricated herself from Hawke’s grasp and gave Varric a small smile before leaving the Herald’s Rest. As soon as Varric saw her leave the pub, Hawke turned to Dorian.

“Okay Tevinter you’re right, they are both hopeless.” Dorian gave a knowing nod and Hawke now turned to Varric. “Maker’s BALLS Varric when will you take that woman out for a drink and give her a good time?”

“What?”

“Maker give me strength.” Hawke took Varric by the shoulders. “I’ve been getting your letters for months now Varric, and don’t think I didn’t notice how much you write about her. Then at Adamant you two wouldn’t shut up while we were bodily in the fade, and Dorian tells me you two are like that all the time.”

“I’ve already told Dorian - “

“Shhh Varric I’m not finished.” Hawke actually put her finger to his lips. “You wrote her a new chapter of Swords and Shields! Swords and Shields Varric! If your editor knew you’d spent time on that rather than… anything else she would actually murder you.”

“That was just a bit of fun that Lavellan asked me to do! And I did owe her one. For several reasons.”

“But you don’t write people a whole book when you owe them one! You buy them ale for a month! You carry their pack when you’re trekking down in the arse end of Ferelden! Not this!”

“Hawke dear, they have been like this for months now.” Dorian took his turn. “But as you can see despite your extreme efforts this evening neither of them are going to budge until something drastic happens.”

“We’ll see.” Hawke narrowed her eyes and downed her wine. “I’m off to bed, got to rest up before… Oh Maker she really agreed to spar didn’t she?”

“Good night Hawke! Be sure to stretch up for tomorrow!”

Dorian yelled as he waved her out of the bar.

“Really Varric. You have to do something.” He raised a hand before Varric could respond. “I honestly don’t care if it’s a one time thing to work it out of your systems or if it ends up with you getting married and living happily ever after, just, for all our sakes talk to the woman.”

  
  


The next day Varric breakfasted very early so as to avoid anyone he saw in the Herald’s Rest the previous evening, he then stayed at his desk resorting to even looking at some letters from the merchants guild, purposefully ignoring any noise coming from the practice ring outside. He was getting to the point where he was nearing actually having to deal with his Starkhaven correspondence when the desk was pulled away from him leaving a large ink stain on his current missive. At the other side of the desk was Bull.

“Come on Varric, time for the show.”

“Dorian sent you didn’t he? Maker you’re whipped.”

“Now you know I’m the one -”

“Okay go no further Tiny, I dread to think what else you’ve got planned and besides, it’s fun to see Hawke get her ass kicked occasionally.”

“That’s the spirit Varric! Two powerful ladies doing their best to kick the shit out of each other? Can’t think of anything better other than well…”

“What is it about the end of the world that makes people like this?”

“I have no idea, this is fairly standard for me.”

Varric shook his head and followed Bull down to the sparring ring where quite a crowd had gathered, Dorian waved them over as he saw them approach and let Varric stand in front of him.

“Thank you Sparkler.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the show.”

At that moment both of the fighters entered the ring, they were both wearing armour that was conspicuously lighter than normal, in fact they were mostly dressed very casually with an odd bit of padded leather instead of heavy plate and mail. And Cassandra had her arms entirely bare showing off, leading Varric to think it was lucky she normally covered up because otherwise he’d be far too distracted. He had enough trouble dealing with her cheekbones, let alone arms with muscles that he would need to spend at least two pages describing when it came time to write the not so official history of the Inquisition. Hawke clapped Cassandra on the shoulder and grinning from ear to ear with her two-handed sword resting on her shoulder, made her way to one side of the ring. Cassandra blushing once again, walked to the other side near Cullen and the Inquisitor. 

After a few minutes the gathered audience, which by this point seemed to be about half of Skyhold, had quietened down in anticipation and Hawke strolled to the centre of the ring.

“Now you lot! I have been asked specially by Commander Cullen, to request that there be no wagering on today’s match, apparently there are ledgers still going around from when Sera and Leliana had a shooting competition. But, prior to that request, the Lady Cassandra and I had agreed to a private wager of our own, the terms of which we will not reveal until we have a winner. That still all okay with you Seeker?”

“Completely fine Hawke, let’s begin.”

Blackwall hopped over the fence into the ring, acting as referee as he often did when sparring matches took place. At some point it was decided that a Grey Warden would be an honourable and fair judge without taking the fun out of the proceedings and so far it had worked.

“Our competitors today have agreed the following rules: fight until one yields or until the referee judges one or both are unable to continue. Please both confirm you agree to these terms.”

Hawke and Cassandra nodded, Hawke with the look of a child on Satinalia morning and Cassandra with a sliver of a grin that not many people would recognise if they didn’t know her. She adjusted her shield and spun her sword while Hawke took a firm stance and raised her sword in return.

“I would say keep it clean, but I’ve seen you fight on the field Hawke. Have a good time everyone.” Blackwall chuckled, “On the count of three…”

As Blackwall reached three there was an enormous clash of steel as Hawke brought her sword down and Cassandra countered with her shield. They continued to trade blows for several minutes and even though it was a sparring match neither of them were holding back and it showed. As Cassandra shoved Hawke off her with a shield bash, sending her across the ring they both took a second for a breather, Hawke used her sleeve to wipe her brow whereas Cassandra, sleeveless as she was, bunched up the bottom of her shirt to wipe hers. It was at that moment, seeing the Seeker’s abs that Varric knew he would never know peace again. Once this match was over he would haunt Hawke for the rest of her life for making this happen. He actually let out a strangled sound as it happened and both combatants looked over at him. Cassandra blushed once again as Hawke yelled.

“Ready to go again Pentaghast?”

“Oh we’ve barely started Hawke.”

“Did you hear that Varric?”

It was Dorian from behind him, Varric turned and saw both Dorian and Bull both wearing identical, conspiratorial smiles as Bull wrapped his arms around Dorian.

“There’s more from where that came from. I can’t wait to see how it turns out!”

Varric scoffed and turned back to the match. He had always been able to appreciate Cassandra in combat, admired her technical skills and her ability to save his ass. But as time moved on he really had come to appreciate it for a lot more than that and it was all on display right now. He really was going to have to talk to Hawke trying to encourage him along that route because as much as he wanted it, it was never going to happen.

There were a few more rounds of action, both women showing off why they were admired and feared throughout Thedas when all of a sudden Hawke got a hit in that seemed to take Cassandra by surprise, throwing her to the floor and then before Cassandra could rise Hawke’s sword was at her throat.

“Yield Seeker?”

“I yield Hawke.”

With that Hawke threw down her sword and gave Cassandra an arm up.

“Well fought Pentaghast, however here comes your outcome for losing the wager. May The Maker smile on you as you fulfil it.”

Cassandra smiled grimly.

“I’m not sure if I see The Maker at work in this.”

“Oh relax Cassandra, it’ll go brilliantly trust me.” Now addressing the crowd at large Hawke continued.

“Prior to the match we both agreed a penalty for each other. Cassandra’s penalty is that she will have to kiss Varric.”

Cassandra turned bright red and Varric found himself being lifted over the fence.

“Maferath’s hairy balls! Bull put me down!”

He got his request but on the other side of the fence. Varric strode over to Hawke, trying as hard as he could to avoid meeting Cassandra’s eyes.

“Hawke I don’t know what you’re playing at but this is ridiculous. You can’t drag Cassandra into our bullshit.”

“Oh Varric come on, The Seeker and I made a deal and well… This is how it turned out.”

Varric noticed Cassandra hadn’t said anything, looking up at her she was suddenly very interested in her shield straps.

“Come on Varric,” Hawke started up again “it’s only one little kiss with The Seeker, what’s wrong with that.”

“No! Not like this!”

Cassandra looked up from her shield, met his eyes and then turned and walked very quickly away towards the forge. Bull, in his infinite wisdom, could clearly tell the crowd needed a distraction so he lifted Hawke up on his shoulders and walked the Champion over to the pub yelling about her martial prowess. Dorian came up to Varric and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Go talk to her Varric. Trust me.”

“Of course I was going to speak to her Sparkler, I just need a minute.”

“Good, if you want I can stand guard at the forge doors?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. She’s not threatened to kill me for ages.”

“Oh I didn’t mean for that. Now move your arse Varric and go talk to the woman!”

With that Dorian shooed him towards the forge then made his own way to the Herald’s Rest.

Varric opened the door to the forge and made sure to announce himself as he walked up the stairs.

“Seeker! I’m coming up!”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he climbed the stairs as fast as he could, entering her room he could see she was sitting calmly on her bed, her hair still sweaty from the match, her sword and shield placed carefully to one side. Varric noticed her braid had become slightly loosened as well.

“What did you mean ‘not like this’?”

“Ah shit Cassandra, I meant…” Before he finished he crossed the room he took her face in one of his hands and took a deep breath. “I meant that if I ever kissed you I didn’t want it to be in front of everyone and because of a wager with Hawke.”

Cassandra tilted his chin so he was now looking at her instead of the floor.

“How would you have wanted it?”

“Well Hawke wouldn’t have been there for one.”

They both chuckled and Varric continued.

“Cassandra I’m sorry, Hawke has been on at me about there something between us and I’m sorry she sprung that on you.”

“She didn’t spring it on me. I threw the fight.”

“What?”

“I lost the fight on purpose.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to kiss you, at least once. I wasn’t sure-”

At that Varric pressed his lips to hers, after the initial surprise the kiss deepened until they both pulled away, resting their foreheads together, sweat be damned.

“Well shit Cassandra, this really wasn’t how I pictured first kissing you.”

“Not to worry Varric, I might be amenable to giving it another go sometime.”

“How about right now?”

Cassandra smiled and nodded.

  
  


When they finally showed up at the Herald’s Rest hours later the aftermath of the fight had been forgotten because someone had set one of Sera’s jars of bees loose and the entire pub and been caught up in stories of misadventures involving animals. When Cassandra and Varric took their drinks and sat next to each other, casually holding hands under the table it was only Cole who noticed from his vantage point in the rafters. He gently smiled and kicked his legs along to the music Maryden was playing, it was always a good day when his friends helped each other.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this one got away from me a bit - but I had great fun writing it!
> 
> the prompt started off as 'hawke flirting with cassandra to give varric a kick up the arse' and well... we ended up with this
> 
> special thanks to nick miller from new girl for a key bit of dialogue which helped me crack where I wanted this story to go
> 
> title from 'dog days are over' by florence + the machine
> 
> if anyone wants to see into my process I tweet along as I go on @sianofhel and can be found on tumblr as @leahofhell
> 
> thanks for reading!


	5. we don't have to rush when you're alone with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the inevitable halamshiral chapter!
> 
> mentions lavellan/cullen
> 
> "Lavellan,” Varric interjected “you really don’t want to bet against our Josie, trust me.”

“I fucking hate Orlais.” Lavellan leant her head against her staff, utterly exhausted “I’m just done with the whole lot of them, I really am. Tell me I never have to come back here Josie? Please?”

“You have at least six months reprieve from the court after tonight’s events I’d wager Inquisitor.”

“And Lavellan,” Varric interjected “you really don’t want to bet against our Josie, trust me.”

The Inquisition had had a very long evening, stopping a Civil War, exposing aristocratic traitors and repairing personal relationships between an Empress and her former lover was much more than anyone had anticipated for one evening. Now the Inquisitor and her companions were gathered outside the Winter Palace waiting for their carriages, extremely eager to leave the ball and get some much needed sleep.

“Also,” Lavellan continued “I cannot believe they insisted we get changed into these damn gowns for the speeches at the end. I felt like I spent half of the evening getting in and out of my armour.”

The topic of outfits prior to the ball at Halamshiral was extremely hotly contested. There were meetings upon meetings upon meetings. The idea of an identical uniform for all was thrown out almost immediately - far too militaristic for the image Leliana wanted to project and not impressive enough for the court in the eyes of Josephine. The first outfit to be decided on was Dorian. He was trusted to put his own outfit together after a brief discussion in only the second meeting and ended up in an ensemble not dissimilar from his usual, but made out of material sent from Vyrantium itself and with intricate swirls and beading added by the seamstresses that had been found among the refugees in Skyhold.

The next to be sorted were in fact Josephine and Leliana who both wore relatively simple yet elegant gowns in their standard colours of gold and purple. Leliana explained that due to their positions they needed to be seen not to be showing off but to still be visible, and by maintaining a relative simplicity in their outfits they would in fact stand out more. However the simplicity did not extend to Leliana’s shoes which she actually brought with her to the war table to show off after they had arrived in an extremely elaborate box, which was certainly a conversation switch after Cullen’s rather dry report on troop deployments out of Griffon Wing Keep. They were a gorgeous painted silk to match her dress, and had a dangerously heel which made Lavellan rather concerned for her spymaster’s ankles. 

Varric and Cullen came next after several very active discussions about how many undone buttons and just how much armour would be viewed as socially acceptable to the Orlesian court. The answers were none and only a little respectively. So Varric ended up buttoned up all the way to his neck and Cullen was wearing the least amount of metal he had worn in public since he was a teenager. Neither were happy about it and had made their opinions abundantly clear for the entire of the journey to the Winter Palace.

The final outfits to be decided were the Inquisitor herself and Cassandra. Lavellan had no idea how a corset worked and Cassandra had done her best to avoid them for around twenty years, yet it was decided (funnily enough in a meeting while they were both out trudging through snow in the Emprise) that both should be afforded dresses fitting their stations as Inquisitor and Nevarran royalty. That meant corsets, heavy layers of material and far too many hours of fittings. The fittings ended up taking so long that Varric took to settling in a corner with his papers, be they Merchant’s Guild letters or new chapters to send to his editor to keep Cassandra company. And to keep her from letting her frustrations out on the seamstresses who were doing their best to construct two gowns that, in Cassandra’s opinion, seemed to be Josie and Leliana fulfilling childhood ball gown dreams. But Varric had to face the wall because while Cassandra appreciated the company she did not appreciate having an audience to her being poked and propped a million different ways. Lavellan’s fittings were a wildly different prospect altogether. Lavellan had never worn anything with such a construction and was initially quite curious as to the whole process, observing how the embroidery methods differed from her clan’s, but her endless requests to practice quick changes from her gown into her armour (just in case something were to happen, she insisted), eventually wore on everyone’s patience as it took valuable time away from actually finishing the dress itself.

“But you ladies look so lovely!” Dorian remarked as Cassandra was leaning on Varric to take her shoes with the highest heel Josephine could possibly get her in off. Meanwhile Lavellan shoved her staff in Cullen’s arms as she undid the intricate braid that had begun to fall apart after the third outfit change.

The dresses, in fact, did still look completely gorgeous. Lavellan’s had been designed with an eye to grab attention, but not more attention than the Empress herself. It was a rich emerald silk, with silver beads and embroidery from the rounded neckline to the bottom of the a-line skirt. It had off the shoulder sleeves in the same deep green silk, with the same silver beads dripping off the sleeves. As Lavellan stepped out of her carriage earlier that evening Varric had to raise his elbow to Cullen’s ribs.

“Maker Curly we’re in public maybe look at her a bit less like she’s Andraste reborn, maybe settle for just her Herald?” 

However the Commander got his revenge when Cassandra followed the Inquisitor out of the carriage. They had managed to keep things between them relatively quiet because there was nothing in Thedas like Skyhold gossip, but up to this point he hadn’t seen her show this much skin outside of a bedroom. Apart a few times in a tent. And that one time in a river in the Emerald Graves. And he had certainly never seen her in a gown like this before. It was a deep red, with a similar a-line skirt to the Inquisitor, the deep red beads swirled around the top of the skirt and down the sheer arms. The beading continued along the edges of a very deep v neck that actually made Varric splutter and Cullen raised his eyebrows at the dwarf. 

“You were saying Tethras?”

"What is it? Is there something wrong with the dress?"

Cassandra patted down her skirts and looked over her sleeves and bodice to make sure everything was still in place.

"Everything is fine Seeker." Varric answered her with a smile on his face. "In fact you look absolutely beautiful."

At that Cassandra blushed and before she could respond Josie directed them all into the Winter Palace.

Hours later, they all stood back in that same courtyard with a mage and a Seeker clearly losing patience with their ensembles.

“Dorian.” Cassandra basically growled, causing everyone to look at her in alarm and she flung her shoes into Varric’s arms before she continued. “You are NOT wearing a corset and sporting bruises courtesy of Florianne and her minions so I would advise you to keep your sartorial opinions to yourself for the moment.”

Varric took a deep breath in.

“I’d really do as she says Sparkler. Things do turn out much better that way.”

“Gosh that’s a change of tune Varric. Does her ordering you around extend to -”

“Ah the carriages!” Josie exclaimed rather loudly. And before Cassandra could murder her first non-Venatori Tevinter, the Inquisitor, her party, her advisors and a number of attendants carrying various weapons and pieces of armour managed to clamber into several carriages to transport them to the estate where Gaspard had giving them lodgings. He was exiled after the events of the evening but Celene and Briala confirmed they had the run of the place for as long as they needed before their return to Skyhold.

The estate on the outskirts of Halamshiral was blessedly quiet; only the necessary Inquisition guards patrolled the grounds as everyone bade each other goodnight and made their way to their quarters for some long overdue sleep. Varric took Cassandra’s hand and still held her shoes in the other. He’d undone several buttons in the carriage while Cassandra had now bunched her layers of skirts up to ensure she could walk as fast as she could. And factoring in said skirts and the amount of wine he’d seen her drink Varric was pretty impressed with the speed she was managing.

As they dashed through the candlelit corridors, Cassandra started to giggle as they approached their room.

“What is it?”

“For once in our lives Varric we have matching necklines!” Cassandra continued to giggle as she locked the door to their room. “Now please make yourself useful and help me get out of this dress.”

“Just how much did you drink this evening Seeker?”

“As much as I needed to deal with Orlesians and a dress.”

“So that’s a lot.”

“Yes Varric. A Lot. Now help me out of this dress.”

Cassandra turned her back to him and Varric was suddenly faced with the most complex item of clothing he had ever come across. He managed to unhook the bodice and Cassandra shrugged out of the sleeves leaving them with a corset and a ridiculous amount of skirts.

“Okay this is absurd.”

“You’re not even the one wearing it! Leliana managed to get me in and out of this multiple times this evening, yet another thing to add to my list of things about her that elude me.”

“The sheer amount of lacing in here is actually impressive.”

“Varric.” Cassandra peered around “Stop looking at the engineering of the corset and please get me out of this dress.”

He placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck which caused her to shudder slightly and set to work. Eventually the last laces were undone and Cassadra tore the corset off and threw it out of the double doors and onto the balcony where it landed on a plant pot.

“Not a fan, I take it Cassandra?” asked Varric with a chuckle as he proceeded to change into his nightshirt. All he received as a response was a disgusted noise as Cassandra stepped out of her many skirts and into her nightshirt, which happened to be one of Varric’s but he wasn’t complaining.

She dove under the covers and was shortly joined by Varric who gathered her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She pressed her face against his chest and began to talk. They were actually getting pretty good at this communicating thing, much to the surprise of both of them.

“The last time I wore anything remotely like that, I was still in Nevarra. It reminds me of a time… A time I would rather not think of. Especially in the here and now. Despite everything, I have found myself happy. And that is in no small part thanks to you.”

Varric tilted her face up and kissed her gently.

“I’m happy too Cassandra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading!
> 
> title is from 'i feel it coming' by the weeknd & daft punk
> 
> a halamshiral chapter really was inevitable and I may have lost too much time looking at pretty dresses for inspo, I'm a weak bi what can I say???
> 
> thanks for the kudos on previous chapters everyone, honestly any comments are more than welcome!
> 
> and I can be found on tumblr @leahofhell and on twitter @sianofhel where I do intermittently ramble about some form of process when writing these

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Person B having to help person A undress after an injury.
> 
> Collection title is from 'Chocolate' by Snow Patrol.  
> Chapter title is from 'Clearest Blue, by Chvrches.
> 
> First time posting after far too many years of lurking (had to get my password reset and everything)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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